The Mind Is A Scary Place
by spaceboyfucker
Summary: Uhm, this is a sight inside the view of a crazy person. Craig Tucker isn't your average teen, he's got some issues, bro. Tweek Tweak isn't normal either. A meth addict at the age of 16. Fun times.
1. chapter 1

The human mind is truly the scariest thing of all. One moment, you could be thinking of rainbows and puppy dogs. The next, you could be wondering where you could hide the body of that chick that you brutally murdered.

You could be just about to fall asleep, when all of the sudden, your brain decides to think of the demons in your closet. You could imagine creepy spiders crawling up your spine and crawling in your ears and mouth.

Craig Tucker knew this all too well. The mind is a fucked up place. If you don't know that, you don't survive. His mind wasn't like the average person's mind. His was the mind of a mentally insane person. He didn't know he was insane, nor did anyone he knew. Only you and I knew. Well, for now.

Craig sighed softly, glaring out the car window. Another road trip. Another " _fresh start_ ". It wasn't his fault. At least, that's what his parents claimed. It was just time to move on from that town. That's how it always worked.

They'd spend six or so weeks in a town, then move on. It always worked the same way. They'd move, get their things unpacked. Craig and Tricia would enroll in school, make some friends. Correction, Tricia would make friends, and Craig would get enemies, acquaintances, and, of course, bullies. That's how high school works.

After making _friends,_ they'd hang around and be absoutely dreadful-, sorry, _ecsatic_ , for the rest of their time there. Of course, it always ended the same way.

Craig would snap. He'd get in a fight, or he'd do worse. More often than not, _someone ended up missing_. Now, nothing was for sure, but it always seemed to happen when Craig was around. Whenever someone pissed him off just enough, they'd be gone.

Craig often thought about those kids. A sly smirk fell across his face as he the ideas rushed through his head. However, the smirk, along with the thoughts, vanquished when the car pulled to a sudden stop.

"We're heeereeee~!" Laura, Craig's mother, sang cheerfully, opening the passenger door and hurrying out of the vehicle. She'd only seen the house once before, and it was only quickly. She never got much say in where the family moved. "Welcome to South Park, Tuckers!"

The dark haired teen groaned in annoyance, already knowing it wouldn't last. He reluctantly climbed out of the car, pulling on his backpack. It was the only thing he ever bothered to bring along anymore. However, his mom brought more for her lovely son. She always cared well for her children.

The noirette, dressed in black skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, and blue hoodie, looked up at the house. He ran his tongue over his braced teeth and crossed his arms. The house wasn't too shabby. Neat and large, one could even say fancy. Perhaps the best that they'd ever stayed in. So far.

Tricia, the youngest of the family, bounded out of the car. Her orange/reddish pigtails bounced around as she gleefully took in the sights around her. She, for one, had always enjoyed their moves. It seemed they'd always moved to new, fascinating places. They'd never been to Colorado before, so it was nice for a change of scenery. "Wow, it's so pretty! Look at the snow!" She kicked a pile of snow at her brother, only to be met with the middle finger, which she returned with a smile.

Craig rolled his eyes, brushed snow off of himself and started inside. "Dibs on the bigger bedroom." He yelled back to his sister, adjusting his backpack and hurrying up the stairs. He burst in to a room, which luckily happened to be a bigger room. His sister was huffing and puffing by the time she'd reached the room. She certainly wasn't out of shape or anything, she just had a tiny body and small lungs.

"You suck!" She huffed, kicking his shins and starting to the next room. Her room was considerably smaller, but not too small. Not like it was a closet or anything. She tossed the bag she'd brought up with her to the side, laying down and rolling around on the fluffy carpet.

Craig rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile at his little sisters antics. He may be mentally crazed, but that doesn't prevent sibling love. Usually.

He went over to his window. The ledge appeared to be big enough to sit on, which he found nice. He could spend nights gazing out the window and plotting.

Across the way, he spotted a bizarre looking blonde. He appeared to be twitching and spazzing out like a crazy person. Not Craig's type of crazy, monotonous and physically plain. No. This kid had hair going out in fifty different directions. He looked like he had brightly coloured bandaids covering his arms, and fingers, which were tugging at his honey blonde hair. He looked as though he were on meth.

The blonde looked as though he were looking back at Craig, though the second the noirette made eye contact with him, he opened his mouth, most likely in a scream, and disappeared from sight. He ducked down and slowly inched out of the room.

Craig clicked his tongue and turned back, unpacking his bag, and the couple of boxes his mother had stealthily placed in the room. He was surprised that she'd managed to do it soundlessly. He'd grown used to his mom doing that.

Nonetheless, his sapphire eyes glanced around the room, mentally noting where everything should and would go. He began unpacking his stuff, scoffing when he came across the stick on stars his mom always seemed to have. He pressed them on to the ceiling above his little window seat, smiling at the sight.

He assisted his father in bringing in and setting up the beds and whatnot, unpacking the bigger things, such as televisions. After that, he made his own bed, fixing up the blankets. Hey, a sociopath can be a neat freak too. The noirette grabbed an excess blanket, tucking it in to the small nook the window seat provided.

Glancing out the window again, he spotted the blonde once more. This time, the blonde was oblivious, as he was facing away from the window. He was facing in to his room, where two taller figures, a man and a woman, who Craig assumed to be the twitchy kids parents, were standing. He wanted to be nosy and see what was happening, but he had better things to do. He sat on the window seat and stared up at the press-on stars.

 _"You have no power over me."_ _The smaller boy hissed, though this definitely wasn't true. He'd been in this pyscotic kid's possession for quite some time at that point. The small boy, who's name is and was irrelevant, was growing quite weak. He'd never regretted anything more in his life. Who knew that high school bullying could lead to abduction and what was verging on murder._

 _Craig scoffed at this, tutting and shaking his head in denial. "Are you sure about that?" He asked, his finger gently trailing along the other's sharp cheek bone. His white shirt already had a few drops of blood on it. A shame, really. He'd liked that one._

 _It wasn't the first time Craig had been in the same situation. It was always unfortunate when someone chose to pick on Craig Tucker, but he wondered what he could really do about it. He didn't tease himself. Didn't give himself swirlies, or make fun of his braces. No, that was their choice. They're mistakes. They were the ones who had to pay._

 _The human mind is truly the scariest thing_ _of all._


	2. chapter 2

Craig was rudely snapped out of his flashback by a loud knocking at the downstairs door. The sky had grown to a lovely inky black colour, and the house across the way had grown dark, save for a light in the downstairs, and a faint light, like one from a computer or laptop screen, from the room across from his.

He wondered how long he'd been daydreaming, as the door made another loud knocking noise. He checked his phone, only to see that it was about eight pm. He was annoyed that no one else was going and answering it to cease the noise, eventually getting up to do it himself.

The dark haired teen slowly made his way down the stairs, rubbing his temple's as a headache quickly began to form. "I'm coming, I'm coming. Jesus fuck, shut up." He yelled at the door, seriously wondering where the fuck his family was and why they were acting as though this wasn't occurring.

When the door went silent, loud snoring from upstairs confirmed that they were sleeping. Well, his father was, at least. He fixed the bit of hair that was sticking out from under his blue chullo hat with a little yellow poofball. He adjusted his shirt and shorts, assuming that he'd fallen asleep for 3 or four hours, give or take, on the little window seat. He made the guess that his family had hit the sack as well, seeing as they'd been driving non-stop for twenty four hours at the least, most likely more.

Craig stumbled around the house in the dark, running his hand along the wall to keep himself up. He was surprised that it was so dark, mostly since there was zero lights on in their house. He tighty gripped the railing on the stairs, nearly slipping in his socks on the fourth to last stair, grunting and clinging to the railing before finishing off by just jumping down the rest of them.

The young man was quite annoyed, something you didn't want from him, but he supposed it was rather early still, so he could hardly fault the knocker. He didn't bother checking the peephole, just swinging the door open and rubbing his eyes in an attempt to look more alive.

To his surprise, it seemed to be the same jittery blonde from across the street. Up close, he could make out the details of his face and body.

The blonde, shorter than Craig was, had very pretty features. He had a very cute button nose, one that completed his face perfectly. His eyes were bright and bottle green, darting around everywhere he could see without turning his head. His cheeks were thin-looking, and covered by a rosy blush. His body was tiny, almost feminine. Hell, if it hadn't been for his short hair and flat chest, Craig most certainly would have assumed the blonde was a girl. His arms were covered with colourful, rainbows of bandages.

However, something seemed.. off about him. With one hand, he clutched a tin, one that grandmother's often sent for Christmas, or birthdays that were filled with cookies. With his other hand, he was scratching his arm intensley, probably the reasoning for the bandages. He was shaking like crazy, Craig assumed from the cold. His pupils were very small, and were now staring at Craig dead on.

"My-My, uhm, my-" the fidgety blonde cut himself off to shriek, then resumed his sentence, "mom sai-said to bri-bring the-these ov-over to you-your family as a w-welcoming-" he paused once again giving out a quick "JESUS CHRIST-" before trying once more, "welcoming pre-present.!" He finally managed, shoving the tin in to Craig's arms.

The noirette took the violent twitching and at least some of the stuttering for the cold. Wordlessly, he stepped to the side and gestured for him to come in. They blinked back and forth awkwardly for a few moments, before Craig finally spoke. "Well, don't just stand there. Come in. It must be negative out there."

"GAH, no thank you, I'm, uhm-uhm, I ne-need to go-go bac-back ho-home. I DON'T WANT TO GET MURDERED." He exclaimed, clamping both hands to his mouth. Craig kept a blank expression, rolling his eyes, then tugging him inside.

"I'm not some pyscopath, Jesus. I'm not going to murder you. Just come and have some hot chocolate, or coffee or something. It's cold." Yes, despite his insane tendencies, Craig Tucker had manners.

Tweek gave another shriek, though it was quickly silenced by a deadly glare from Craig. "My family is asleep. It would be greatly appreciated if you kept quiet. It's rude to be so loud." Though this was true, and not at all a creepy thing to say, something about the way the dark haired boy spoke sent chills up Tweeks spine.

He bit on both of his lips to keep himself quiet and gave a forced nod, following the noirette in to the kitchen. He was surprised at how unpacked the Tucker family managed to be, seeing as they'd only been there for five to six hours, at most.

Craig flipped on light switches as they passed, revealing a nicely furnished lower story. A couch, a television set. A small bookshelf looking thing, though it lacked any books.

The kitchen was neat and tidy. Nothing appeared to be out of place. Two cute little ducky porcelain figures sat on the counter. Holes on the top of them led Tweek to realize they were salt and pepper shakers. How quaint.

He gave a muffled scream, his arms wrapping around himself in an attempt to comfort himself. The meth-head rocked slightly, sitting down in a seat that he was directed to. The silence was beginning to freak him out. More so than he usually was. Tweek was the type to freak out about everything, seeing as his parents had been slipping meth, and other sorts of drugs, in his coffee since kindergarten.

"So, uhm.." Craig began after he'd started a pot of coffee. He truly wanted this town to be permanent. Sure, his neighbor was a potential meth addict, and sure, the temperature dropped to the negatives at night, but maybe the people were nice, right? Maybe he'd make some actual friends. Set his life as a mentally insane person to the side. So many possibilities. "I'm Craig. Craig Tucker. What is your name?" He asked in an attempt to make a casual conversation.

"T-Tweek Twea-Tweak!" The blonde introduced himself, offering a fidgety hand to shake. Craig wasn't appearing to take any interest in the hand shake, turning away and taking two mugs from a box in the corner of the kitchen.

"Your first name is the same as your last? Why? That's strange." Craig replied, placing the mugs on the kitchen table. He was slightly disgusted with himself, realizing he sounded like the type of people he'd been trying to avoid. "Not that that's wrong or anything. It's just strange. Interesting, if you will." He tried to fix the situation. He picked at his painted black nails, courtesy his sister. They were already chipping in some places from him doing pretty much the same thing.

"M-My par-parents are str-strange." was Tweeks simple reply, his hands reaching up and pulling at his hair.

If you do recall, it was previously mentioned how scary the human mind is. How quickly it can shift focus. Well, that's what happened to Craig. He was thinking about how nice it would be to stay one moment, then he was suddenly thinking about how nice it would be to see Tweeks body limply laying in their basement. He wondered if their new house even had a basement.

He continued thinking about this as he fixed their coffee, using a knife to stir it all together. This wasn't a steak knife, or even a bread knife. It was a simple butter knife.

Don't be fooled by a butter knifes simple exterior. We'd hate to judge a book by it's cover. A butter knife could do so much more than it is given credit for. You could stab someone's eye, wound their throats. Hell, if you tried hard enough, you could probably take someone's toe off with one.

Craig was thinking about all of this as he pulled the knife up, licking the flavour of coffee off of it before tossing it in the sink. He smirked, chuckling softly to himself as he handed the blonde his mug.

"Enjoy." He said in an almost sickeningly sweet tone.


	3. chapter 3

"What a creep." The nicely tanned, slightly chubby boy whispered to his spastic friend, glancing at the new kid passing by them. Of couree, Craig caught this, but he decided it best to act nonchalant and non-caring. For the time being, that is.

The slightly chubby boy, Clyde, received a smack from his 'bestfriend' as they claimed, though everyone knew they were totally together.

"Don't say that. Everyone's strange in some way or another." Token scolded, shooting the noirette new kid an apologetic glance, before turning his attention back to Tweek and Clyde. "You said he looked pretty shitty, right? And that his family was asleep? You'd probably woken him up. He was getting back at you by being creepy." The dark skinned boy pointed out, leaning against a locker.

"I-I don-don't kno-know, man! He-He see-seems like he's prett-pretty much-GAH- lost it. I don-don't even thin-think he ha-had it to be-begin with, hon-honestly." Tweek replied in a rather loud whisper.

Tweek had just told them everything that had occurred the previous night. From being sent over, all the way until he'd returned to the comfort of his humble abode.

After Craig had been all creepy about the beverages, giving the creepy " _Enjoy_ ", the two had conversed about normal things. However, Craig was very vague and ominous with his answers.

For example, Tweek had shakily asked him where he'd moved from. Rather than saying Utah, where he and his family had previously subsided, he replied with a creepy " _Everywhere_." Which was getting close to true. They were running out of places to run from reality.

Unfortunately for them, Craig had come to a stop a few lockers down, working the combonation in and tapping his foot as he listened. That was something Craig often did. Listen. The more you listen, the more you learn. Had he interfered previously, he wouldn't have had the pleasure of hearing Tweeks unintentionally cruel comment.

He continued listening, wondering if he'd hear something nasty from the one with dark skin and a purple sweater with a bright yellow 'T'. To his surprise, he didn't. He heard only the black boy scolding them, then saying something a bit softer. He assumed this was the nasty thing, but was quickly stood corrected.

"Hey, Craig right?" Token asked as he turned away from the blonde and brunette. "I'm Token Black. It's nice to meet you. My friends and I wanted you to eat lunch with us, and maybe hang out after school." He proposed the idea, receiving a kick to the back of his knees by the chubby boy and a slight yelp from Tweek.

Craig was flabbergasted. He nodded slightly, keeping a notebook from his bag and being sure he had what he needed. "Uhm, yeah, sure. That sounds cool. I'm Craig Tucker. Nice to meet you." He gave a genuine smile, something he didnt often do. "I'll eat with you. Thanks." He closed his locker, setting the combination back to zero and fixing his bag.

"Awesome. Want me to take you to cla-" he grimaced, receiving another kick to the leg. He turned around, shooting a glare at Clyde, giving Craig time to take a couple steps back.

"Uhm, no. You can walk with Tweek and tubby over there." He replied, grinning and shooting them a wink, before turning and starting towards his classroom. "I'll see you later." He hummed in a sickeningly sweet tone.

"Knock knock." The dark haired boy joked, knocking on the table where Token, Clyde, Tweek, and some crippled kid sat. Their conversation fell silent upon his arrival, so it was quite obvious to Craig what they were talking about. The teen plopped down beside the crippled kid, turning and offering a hand. "Craig Tucker." He introduced himself.

"Ji-Ji-Jimmy Val-Valmer." The crippled kid replied, removing his arm from his crutch thing and setting them both to the side, shaking the noirettes hand. "He-Hey, wha-what is-is it call-called when Spiderman do-does gym-gymnastics?" He asked. The table collectively groaned, Craig included.

Craig had never found jokes _funny_. He always thought they were useless and a waste of time. They didn't bring him joy, or laughter. They brought him a headache. He couldn't help bit imagine how nice it would be to see the _comedians_ arms in the same shape as his legs, if you know what I mean.

"Peter Parkour." The noirette replied, poking at his lunch food uncertainly. Sure, he'd heard the joke before. It was lame and cliché. Like most everything.

"Dam-Damnit new-new kid, no-no one-one likes a know-know-it-all." Jimmy scolded, putting on a slight pout as he ate his most likely poisoned school food. School food is disgusting, everyone knows that.

"Oh, you don't even _know_ how much I know." Craig muttered under his breath, shoving food in his mouth to avoid being asked about it.

This wasn't a bluff. Craig had done his research about the town once Tweek had left. He knew most everyone, and how they acted. Creepy, yes, but what could you expect from a pyscopath.

He'd already known who Token was, and Jimmy, for that matter. He knew Clyde's name, only calling him tubby before because it would be a bit too obvious how creepy he was.

He knew who all ran the school, the head bitches, the top assholes. You think of them, he knew 'em. His particular favourites were the goth and vampire kids. Mostly because he hadn't had that sort of kids in his school.

He'd lost himself in the many layers of his fucked up mind as the others at the table conversed. He glanced back and forth between them, being sure not to let his eyes linger for too long.

 _Except for Tweek._


End file.
